A Change For The Better
by knighted lioness
Summary: For DemonGirl13 and Animestar73. Fuji has spent a decade running from the wounds of his past, but now a certain tennis player has reentered his life. Echizen Ryoma isn't going to let him keep running forever...past TezuFuji, current RyoFuji please review!


AN: OMGGGGG!!! I am back! With my second longest fic ever! Although I still haven't cured my addiction to writing only one shots unfortunately. But anyways, at least I finally went and wrote something!!

I want to dedicate this to Demongirl13, and to get down on my knees and BEG for forgiveness. You are the most amazing person ever, I nearly cried when you listed me in your dedications and I have been completely plagued by guilt that I never wrote anything in return. I hope you enjoy this. This pairing isn't my normal cup of tea, I love FujiRyo, but have never been as convinced by the likelihood of RyoFuji, though I enjoy it occasionally. I don't know how on earth I ended up WRITING it of all things, but I hope you don't mind it too much…

And I'm really sorry about the wack ending, it was starting to head in the direction of a lemon, and much as I would love to write one…I suck at it. Lol. So it went a little crack at the end, especially since I had too much fun writing those dialogues.

I also want to dedicate this to Animestar73, my beloved anime-chan. You are such a comfort to me. I'm so glad I have someone who totally knows how I feel when I say that I'd like to tie up the POT gang and make them my personal slaves hahaha.

Ok, wow super long A/N cus I'm writing it after finishing the fic and am giddy at actually completing it. I'll stop now, hope you like it!!

I don't own POT.

Love,

~knighted lioness~

A Change for the Better

"Fuji-sempai?"

A familiar voice rang out from behind him, a call from his distant past. Even as he slowed, he took a moment to push away all the memories the voice brought back, letting the call ring out in the air between them in all its confident clarity.

"Hey, Fuji-sempai!" Where most people, upon seeing Fuji not turn around at his name, would have begun to doubt themselves, to wonder if they'd recognized him or not, Echizen's voice remained sure of itself. Though it seemed a little tinged with impatience the second time around, Fuji mused.

"Oi!" Footsteps quickened behind him, and Fuji decided to take pity on Echizen, since avoiding him was apparently impossible. He stopped and turned.

That turned out to be a mistake, since Echizen, not having expected him to stop, crashed right into him.

"Oof." Echizen groaned from his spot on top of Fuji, and Fuji stayed still as he waited for Echizen to let him breathe again. Luckily, Echizen recovered quickly and without the excessive amount of floundering and apologies that always seemed to accompany these awkward situations in the manga books Yumiko had forced on Fuji when he was younger. Echizen stood smoothly, offering a hand to Fuji and pulling him up easily, strong arm muscles flexing.

"Ara, it's Echizen-kun!" Fuji exclaimed, widening his eyes for the briefest of moments in feigned surprise. He pouted when Echizen snorted in obvious disbelief.

"Mada mada dane, Fuji-sempai. I know you heard me."

"Ahahaha. Sou ka…"

"Che. You haven't changed." Ryoma sniffed in disdain and Fuji beamed his usual smile at the younger boy.

"Maa, Echizen. Change can be overrated. You don't seem very different either, ne?"

"…Betsuni."

*

They agreed to go to a coffee shop together. Well, more like Fuji suggested it and Echizen shrugged. Now that he'd actually managed to catch up to his former teammate, Echizen didn't seem to have all that much to say. Fuji didn't mind though. Even though it'd been ten years since he'd seen his kouhai, he found it was still pretty easy to read Echizen—on the surface at least—and he knew the younger man was glad to see him.

Besides, Fuji had enough to think about without Echizen throwing questions at him or telling him about the other former Seigaku regulars. It was strange to so easily accept coming back into contact with people he'd sought to forget for so long. He'd never meant to speak to any of them ever again, and hadn't gone to any of the Seigaku high school reunions so far.

To be sure, it had hurt to cut off contact with them. They'd been his closest friends since middle school, and when he'd stopped talking to them right after high school graduation, smiling and promising to write and lying through his teeth, he'd felt completely and utterly isolated. But college had eased the pain of separation. He'd made new friends and had moved on, putting everything behind him. Or so he'd thought.

The evidence against this was sitting acrossthe table from him in "Mayuri's Tea Room," sipping on a grape Ponta as if they were both still teenagers. Echizen looked different yet the same. His face was sharper, more mature, and his body had lengthened into an adult's, muscles growing sinewy and lithe on his athlete's frame. But he still had that healthy tan, that silky black hair with just the barest tints of green, those glowing golden cat eyes that had bewitched fangirls and spooked opponents ever since he'd been old enough to hold a racket.

He was very, very good looking. And not just because of his physical attributes. He had a charisma about him, an aura that commanded attention while still drawing others to him like moths to a fire. Fuji remembered seeing him mature throughout middle and high school, remembered that he'd always had this magnetism, though it hadn't been so strong, so mature, back then.

It set him on edge even as he felt himself compelled to stay and see what Echizen wanted. _This is dangerous, _his mind whispered,_ I can't let myself be lured in too far. I won't be able to get back out._ He knew this feeling, this attraction all too well. Echizen had the power to enslave people with the force of his personality, could make them entirely his without any effort at all. It was too familiar. Too much like…_him._

Echizen put down his Ponta, and Fuji realized with a start that he'd been staring, watching the sugary liquid course down Echizen's throat as the younger man drank eagerly, head tipped back so that his long, graceful neck was fully exposed to Fuji. He brought his eyes back up to Echizen's face and smiled again, waiting for Echizen to make the first move. But Echizen simply stared back, and Fuji realized that here, at last, was one thing that he could say was really different about Echizen. He'd learnt patience.

So Fuji forced his smile even wider and asked, "How have you been, Echizen-kun?"

Echizen shrugged as if he wasn't interested in being there, as if it wasn't him who'd approached Fuji but the other way around. Fuji felt a little twinge of annoyance; it could potentially cost Fuji a lot, agreeing to come here with Echizen, and now Ryoma was being difficult.

_Ryoma? When did I go back to calling him that?_ Fuji felt a stirring of panic that he quickly concealed. Too close. Echizen was getting under his skin, closing the distance that Fuji'd fought so hard to create, and he wasn't even trying. It was time to get out of there.

"Well, that's good. I was reasonably certain you were fine, since I hear about you on the news quite often, what with your tennis career, but it's always nice to hear in person." He shot Echizen another encouraging smile and stood, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair. "It was nice seeing you again, Echizen-kun."

Echizen said nothing, just watched his every movement, and Fuji repressed the urge to shift uncomfortably. This new, less brazen Echizen was truly unsettling. He'd seemed the same at first, when Echizen had called out to him in the street, but Fuji wasn't so sure now. So he smiled yet again, hiding his uneasiness, and turned to go.

"Why did you disappear?"

Fuji froze. It seemed that Echizen wasn't going to let him leave so easily, after all. He turned again, and this time, it was suddenly much more difficult to keep his smile in place.

"Disappear, Echizen?"

Echizen frowned again, pursing full lips, and at last Fuji saw a flicker of emotion on his face. Irritation, Fuji guessed. Fair enough, since Fuji was now the one being deliberately uninformative.

"You never spoke to any of us, never wrote, never replied to emails or calls. You didn't want to talk to us."

Fuji felt his muscles ache, straining with the effort of maintaining his ever-present smile. _Not you, Echizen. It's not that I didn't want to talk to you. _

"I'm sorry. I guess life was just so busy, I wasn't able to keep in touch as I should have. I wasn't angry at anyone." _Just hurt. Just embarrassed. Too humiliated to talk to anyone who might stay in contact with him, who might tell him about me or connect him to me._

"Bullshit, sempai!" Echizen was losing his control, getting angry now. The other customers in the cafe were falling silent, glancing over at them. Fuji felt a faint blush rise in his cheeks at the scrutiny.

"Let's talk about this somewhere else, Echizen. Come to my apartment. We'll talk I promise, just not here." He had to get them out of here before they got thrown out. And he had to stall. He needed time to think.

Echizen stared at him for a moment, as if evaluating whether he could be trusted. Then his shoulders slumped a little, and he nodded. For the first time since Fuji had been reunited with him, Echizen looked a little defeated. Weary and sad, somehow. Fuji let his smile drop, rewarding Echizen's show of emotion, of vulnerable trust, with a little of his own. They stared at each other for a moment, examining each other.

Then it was over. Fuji put his smile back on and Echizen straightened. They left the money for Echizen's Ponta and Fuji's untouched green tea on the table and headed out.

*

The walk back was pretty much silent. They felt stiff and awkward beside each other, and after a few short exchanges about what each of them was now doing in life, they ran out of things to say. Anything they really wanted to talk about had to wait until they got to Fuji's apartment.

Fuji brought the tea out to where Echizen was sitting on Fuji's living room couch, and handed him one of the steaming mugs. Echizen took it, but didn't drink. He tracked Fuji's movements with narrowed eyes, as if afraid that Fuji would run. Which, to be honest, _had_ crossed Fuji's mind. But he couldn't very well run away from his own apartment, unfortunately, so instead, Fuji sighed and sat down on the loveseat nearby.

There was another quiet as Fuji fiddled with his tea, blowing on it and looking at his rippling reflection amidst the vapor. Now that he knew he would be getting some answers, Echizen appeared content once more to sit and wait until Fuji spoke.

"I guess I do owe you an explanation," Fuji said at last. Echizen nodded tersely.

"Why did you leave us like that? Why did you refuse to speak to us?" The questions came out harsh and angry, and Fuji flinched a little at the tone. He tried to hide it but Echizen saw and softened his voice.

"Why didn't you want to be our friend anymore?" This time he sounded hurt, and a little lonely. Fuji suddenly realized that back then, he might have been someone that Echizen genuinely cared about. He'd never really thought about it, but Echizen had always been closest to those who could play tennis with him on a higher level, who challenged him the most, with the exception of Momo. In other words, the two other regulars closest to Echizen at Seigaku would actually have been Fuji himself, and…Tezuka.

There. He'd said it, if only to himself. Tezuka. The name still made his heart ache, still made his world seem dimmer and colder and lonelier. He'd forced himself not to think it for years, yet it still hurt him like a physical blow and he gasped aloud.

Echizen, who hadn't been able to hear the direction of Fuji's thoughts, leant forward in alarm.

"Fuji-sempai? Daijobu desu ka?"

It was enough to snap Fuji out of his memories for a moment and he looked up again.

"Aa. Daijobu desu. Sorry." Seeing that Echizen still looked at him with worry, he smiled again. "I'm fine."

Echizen's lips thinned and Fuji was surprised to see that he'd grown angry again.

"You don't have to lie!"

Fuji's eyes flew open, this time in genuine surprise. He hadn't thought he'd be read so easily.

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

This only riled Echizen more.

"I know you are! You're smiling and saying everything's all right and it's obviously not! Fuji-sempai, have you even looked at yourself in a mirror recently?"

Fuji sat, stilled by surprise. Finally he shook his head slowly, still shocked by the vehemence of Echizen's exclamation. Echizen stood suddenly, grabbing Fuji by the arm and leading him down the hallway to the bedroom. There was a mirror there, though Fuji hadn't looked at it in quite some time, and Echizen thrust him in front of it, holding him in place.

"Look at yourself!"

Fuji looked, and trembled at what he saw. The face staring back at him could not belong to him. Dark bruises circled sunken eyes in a sharp, pale face. He was eerily pale, and too skinny, his bones jutting out. His famous smile looked bizarre on his face, not friendly and disarming but scary and grotesque because he was so obviously unhappy.

Echizen let him go, and he sank to his knees. Bowing his head, he felt his eyes brim with tears that he had forbidden himself to shed for the last ten years. It didn't matter now, how low he sank in front of Echizen. Appearances were meaningless when it was so evident that he wasn't ok.

"I guess I really do owe you that explanation, ne Echizen?" Fuji's voice came out hoarse, thick with tears, and Echizen sat down on the floor beside him, reaching out to lay a hand on Fuji's shoulder.

"Please, Fuji-sempai. I just want to help you." Echizen turned Fuji's gaze towards him, and through his tears he could see that Echizen's own eyes were sad and full of compassion. Fuji turned away again, shuddering. It had been so long since someone had looked at him like that; he didn't know how to deal with it anymore. Echizen had really matured.

"I…Back in high school, in freshman year, Tezuka and I started dating." Fuji felt the hand on his shoulder stiffen in surprise. "We kept it secret, because Tezuka's parents wouldn't have approved, and we didn't want to deal with being talked about in school." Fuji laughed. The sound was cold and humorless. "Tezuka was always so private. You know that."

He glanced at Echizen, who nodded. "It was hard to be together discreetly, since we spent so much time in school or at tennis practice, but it worked. We were happy." Fuji hiccoughed, trying to hide the sob that welled up in his throat. "I was…"

The words wouldn't come out. Echizen leaned forward and hugged Fuji, letting Fuji's tears soak his shirt. Fuji simply shuddered. He didn't have the strength to move, to tell Echizen that he didn't have to comfort him. He buried his face in Echizen's warm shirt, and continued speaking, the words muffled by tears and cloth.

"I really loved him. I would have done anything for him. But on graduation day, he told me that he thought we should just be friends, that he knew I didn't want to play tennis professionally, and that our schedules just wouldn't support a closer relationship."

Fuji reached up and clutched at Echizen's sleeves with frail fingers.

"I would have waited for him! I would have stayed faithful to him. Why didn't he want me?" _I have waited for him, even though he doesn't want me. My life has stopped ever since._

And then there were no more words, only wetness, only agony. He could still see Kunimitsu's face that day. Serious and removed, the way he appeared to others, without the openness and gentle care that he'd always shown in private to Fuji.

"_I think we should break up, Syuusuke."_

"_Wh-what? Tezuka, you can't be serious! Why?"_

"_I'm going to play tennis overseas, you're staying here for university. We'll never be able to see each other on a regular basis. I think we should just be friends. This is hard for me too, Syuusuke. Don't make it more difficult."_

"_Wait, Tezuka, wait! Let's think this through first!"_

"_I'm going to go rejoin the others so they don't get suspicious. Take your time Syuusuke, I know this is a lot to throw at you at once. I'm sorry. We'll keep in touch, alright?"_

"_Tezuka…"_

_Don't leave me! Please don't leave me!_

There was nothing but darkness.

*

When Fuji awoke, he found that he'd been laid on his bed, the covers drawn up. His eyelids were red and puffy, his nose stuffed, but he felt a little better than before. It had felt good to tell someone what had happened, to be able to speak to one of his long lost friends at last and come clean about the event that had shredded his heart, his entire being.

Echizen was waiting in the living room when Fuji stumbled out. He glanced up at Fuji, who was standing in the doorway and blinking in surprise.

"Hey, Fuji-sempai."

Fuji blushed, embarrassed by such a casual greeting. He could still see the wet spot on Ryoma's shirt where he'd cried.

"Ah…sorry about this, Ryoma-kun."

There was a pause while both men waited for the other to react to the switch in names, the new closeness. Back in high school, they'd been close enough to call each other by their first names, but earlier that day it had felt like a wall was separating them, keeping them too far apart to be on first name basis.

_Well, if you think about it, I was the one creating that wall. _Fuji blushed harder, ashamed at the way he'd treated someone who'd been nice enough to hold him as he cried.

"No problem, Syuusuke-sempai." Echizen gave him one of his rare, genuine smiles. Fuji relaxed, relieved to find that all was good between them after all.

"So. How are the others these days?"

And thus, the dam was broken.

*

Suddenly, they had so much to say to each other, so much to talk about. Ryoma, it turned out, was taking a break from the "boredom"—as he put it—of a tennis pro's life. He had time to kill, and came over to the apartment nearly everyday to see Fuji. They chatted and laughed and went to see movies or eat dinner together. Fuji felt happier than he had in a long time, and marveled at the idea that he had ever thought he could be happy without real friendship.

Of course, when he mentioned this to Ryoma, the younger man just smirked and gave his customary "mada mada dane." Fuji would laugh and they would move on, though Ryoma's eyes would gleam all the more happily and his smile would be just a tad more gentle.

Ryoma urged Fuji to get back in touch with his other old friends, and Fuji found to his amazement that rather than anger at the cold shoulder he'd given them for a decade, he was welcomed back with exuberant hugs from an overjoyed Eiji and open arms from the others.

He didn't, however, speak to Tezuka, until one night he arrived with Ryoma at Taka's sushi place for a Seigaku reunion party, and found that Tezuka had also come.

It had taken all his willpower to keep himself from turning and running right back out when he saw Tezuka sitting at a table, listening intently to Inui. But Ryoma had laid a hand on his arm in silent support, so he'd forced himself to act normally and walk over, even though his heart was beating right out of his chest.

Tezuka had looked up at him and gone still. They stared at each other, and Fuji felt his stomach twisting in knots. Tezuka hadn't changed. He'd always looked older than his age, and so rather than grow older, he'd simply reached a point where his age and his appearance matched. Fuji shuddered a little under Tezuka's serious gaze. The power of the other man's presence hadn't diminished at all.

Tezuka murmured something, probably an excuse, to Inui, and stood. He and Fuji walked towards the exit together, silently agreeing not to speak until they were out of hearing range. Ryoma watched them go, and Fuji felt his gaze searing them both.

It was cold outside. The first days of winter were setting in, and night made the air even chillier. Fuji shivered, and inwardly recognized the irony of their surroundings: the last time they'd spoke, it had been a beautiful, warm spring day, yet he'd felt just as cold inside as he did now.

Tezuka turned towards him, his glasses glinting under the light of the restaurant sign. The noise from inside floated out, and Fuji shut the door so that the cold air wouldn't get in and trouble the others.

"Syuusuke."

"Tezuka." Fuji forced himself to not stutter, though his nerves continued to make him almost ill with anxiety.

"It's good to see you. I've missed you."

"Have you?" Fuji surprised himself with his reply. He hadn't meant to be so sharp, but the bitter retort had just popped out.

"I've wanted to apologize, Syuusuke, for a very long time now. But I didn't know how to get in touch with you. You never spoke with the others."

"For that very reason."

There was a pause as Tezuka frowned, trying to analyze this unexpected hostility.

"Syuusuke. Fuji. I'm sorry. It was unfair of me to break up with you like that, to not give you a chance to speak. I have always tried to be mature, yet that day I failed to act as an adult and settle our situation together."

Tezuka reached to take one of Fuji's hands in his own, and Fuji let him do it, not resisting or helping.

"I would like to try again, if you would give me the chance. Can you forgive me, Syuusuke?"

For a long moment, Fuji felt something rise up within him, then stop just at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say yes, to scream it and fling his arms around Tezuka, this Tezuka who loved him, who was mature and kind and good, as the Tezuka he'd loved had been.

But the word wouldn't come out; his voice was stuck. His heart beat so hard it hurt in his chest and yet somehow he felt as if it was telling him to say no, not yes. He thought of Ryoma all of a sudden. Ryoma, who'd always been there for him, who had never lost contact with his friends despite his career and who'd spent his precious time off catering to Fuji's every whim.

He realized then that he'd been blind.

He was in love with Ryoma.

He couldn't accept Tezuka.

And now the words came easily.

"I'm sorry," Fuji said calmly, "I do forgive you. We were kids back then. I really was in love with you, but that doesn't mean we weren't too young." Tezuka's gaze had fallen at Fuji's apology, but now he looked up hopefully once more.

"But I can't give you another chance. Six months ago, I would have done anything to have you back. But I'm in love with someone else now."

Tezuka nodded, sighing shakily. "I have no one to blame but myself for missing the chance to be with you again. I wish you good luck, then. I hope you are happy."

Fuji smiled sadly. "Even when we are no longer together, you and I have much in common Tezuka."

Tezuka's eyebrows came together and he gave Fuji a puzzled look.

"We both must love unrequitedly."

Tezuka's eyes widened in surprise, and he gave Fuji such a look of understanding and compassion that for a moment Fuji almost wavered in his refusal. But then he remembered another pair of eyes, golden orbs whose owner had been his pillar of strength more than Tezuka ever had.

They turned and went back inside, as silent as they'd been when they'd come out.

*

Ryoma looked up at them when they came back in, and saw that though Fuji was shaken, he was in one piece. He nodded in relief and went back to poking fun at Momo. Fuji forced a smile and sat down next to Eiji.

The party continued, and Fuji let himself be happy, trying to ignore the feeling of freedom as he left Tezuka forever, and the complementary ache in his heart as he found himself inextricably bound once more to someone who didn't love him back.

Now that he'd realized that he was in love with Ryoma, the world became both beautiful and agonizing at once. He loved every minute they spent together, every moment they shared that would later become a joyful memory to look back on.

But he also couldn't bear it, hated watching and loving in secret. Too afraid of rejection to confess, too in love to force himself away as he'd done with Tezuka. He was stuck, torn by his terrible dilemma.

It began to affect him outwardly as well. He couldn't sleep, because he spent the night wondering what he should do, wishing he could tell Ryoma how he felt. He couldn't eat, because in the morning he was too depressed that he hadn't found an answer, and had no appetite. His smile grew fake again, to hide his torment from Ryoma.

He was sick again.

And, like last time, he couldn't get away with pretending to Ryoma that he was fine.

It came to a head a few weeks after his reunion with Tezuka. He'd spent a particularly restless night and had been to tired to go to work, calling in sick instead. Ryoma showed up in the afternoon, as usual. He took one look at Fuji's blackened eyes before growling and dragging Fuji further into the apartment, slamming the front door shut as he went.

Fuji gaped as Ryoma rounded on him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him furiously.

"What is wrong with you!?" He hissed. Fuji shook his head, mouth agape.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong? Why don't you trust me?"

He let go of Fuji, stepping back with a look of hurt and betrayal on his face.

"Forget it. I'm going home. You obviously don't want to tell me."

He turned to leave, and Fuji finally reacted, desperately reaching out to clutch at the younger man's arm.

"Ryoma, please! Don't go! Please, don't go!" Fuji felt despair rend his soul, and sobbed, begging Ryoma not to leave. He couldn't bear it if Ryoma left him.

Strong arms encircled him, hugging him close. Fuji buried his face in Ryoma's shirt, sobbing now out of relief.

"You know, this is oddly familiar, Syuusuke-sempai." Ryoma's voice was rough with emotion, but he no longer sounded angry. Fuji gave a choked laugh at his comparison to Fuji's last breakdown.

"Please tell me what's wrong, sempai." This time, his voice sounded faintly pleading.

"I can't." _What if you hate me? What if you decide it's too awkward to be near me, because you don't feel the same way?_

"**Please.**"

"I…" Fuji withdrew from Ryoma's embrace, pushing him away. He couldn't bring himself to look Ryoma in the face, staring down and to the left at the carpeting instead.

It was now or never. He was such an idiot. He'd pushed the limits of Ryoma's patience and if he didn't say anything now, Ryoma was going to leave him. But what if he _did_ tell Ryoma his feelings, and he still left? They'd become so close lately, but Fuji couldn't help but feel that it was only because Ryoma pitied him. Surely the younger man wouldn't stick around if things turned awkward, if he felt pressured by Fuji's feelings.

He gasped and turned to look at Ryoma when he felt a hand clasp his, warm and encouraging. Ryoma captured his eyes with his own, sincerity shining through.

"Syuusuke-sempai, you can tell me. I swear."

Fuji trembled, squeezing his eyes shut and looking away again.

"I…"

He couldn't do it.

He had to.

"I'm in love with you, Ryoma!" His eyes flew open, shocked that he'd managed to say it at last. But he still couldn't look at Ryoma.

"Fuji-sempai--" Ryoma had reverted back to calling him Fuji. It was hopeless.

Fuji blushed, ashamed. He was going to be rejected. He should have known.

"I'm sorry! I tried not to feel this way. I tried to hide it. I swear I won't let it change anything! We can pretend I didn't say it, right?" Tears blurred his eyes again. It was hopeless.

_Please don't leave me all alone. I can't do it again._

"Fuji-sempai." Ryoma's voice was stern, forcing Fuji to look him in the face against his own will. Fuji unwillingly dragged his eyes away from the carpet to stare at Ryoma, cringing in fear of what he would see.

What he saw was completely the opposite of what he'd expected. In the place of disgust or pity or discomfort, there was acceptance, mixed with a little amusement and exasperation in Ryoma's golden gaze.

It was a devastating expression. Too kind, too nice. It sent a terrible surge of hope through Fuji's body, jolting his heart into drumming all the faster.

"Mada mada dane, Syuusuke-sempai."

Fuji gaped, feeling his heart lurch. What did that mean? Was that rejection? Could it possibly be reciprocity?

"I-I don't understand."

And then Ryoma kissed him.

It had been so long since he'd kissed anyone that he didn't even realize what was happening until it was over. Just a peck of soft lips against his, tenderly caressing him. He panted when it was over, so overcome with emotion that even that one chaste kiss left his lips tingling and warm.

Ryoma pulled back a few inches. Far enough away to look Fuji in the eyes. He reached up and brushed a thumb over Fuji's delicate cheekbone, leaving a trail of fire on Fuji's skin.

"Baka. Did you think I would really stay so long for someone I don't like?" Ryoma smiled softly as he whispered.

Fuji's voice had stuck. He ran his tongue out over his lips, trying to wet them. Ryoma's eyes followed the movement, making Fuji blush all the harder.

"If-if you're just playing along so that we can go on being friends, Ryoma, you r-really don't have to d---"

Ryoma's eyes flashed a rapid warning before he swooped in again and claimed Fuji's lips with his own. This time, the kiss lasted longer. Fuji allowed himself to relish the feeling, melting into Ryoma's arms and eagerly responding to the younger man's questing lips. Shivers broke out over his body, and he felt his heart would burst as Ryoma swept Fuji's lips with his own tongue, mimicking what Fuji's had done a moment ago. Fuji parted his lips, unable to restrain a moan as Ryoma's tongue entered, teasing him as it explored the cavern of Fuji's welcoming mouth.

At last, when Fuji felt himself begin to black out from lack of oxygen—he knew how to breathe through kisses, but Ryoma had somehow made him forget how—Ryoma broke away, though one possessive hand remained entangled in Fuji's silky hair and the other lay at Fuji's waist, pinning him close.

"So stubborn, Syuusuke. I never thought you would be so blind."

Fuji blinked as Ryoma's words registered and indignation set in.

"How was I supposed to know?! You never said anything!"

"I was waiting for you to be ready!"

"Wha—agh!" Lips attacked Fuji's once more.

"…"

"Ryoma!"

"I couldn't help myself. Now that I know you like me back that way, I want to know all of you…"

"You don't think that's a little fast?"

"Sempai. I'm twenty-six. And I haven't had sex in a _really_ long time."

"As if you're one to talk! What about me?"

"Then you should want to even more."

"Oh. Right. Hey, wait!"

Warm lips and a magical, wet appendage found purchase on Fuji's neck, tracing patterns over sensitive, white skin.

"Mmmm…Ryoma…"

"Mada mada, Syuusuke."

"Ahhh…"

And Fuji Syuusuke let happiness surround him completely, at last.

*

"Ryoma?" A tentative white hand reached out cautiously to touch a tan shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"N-nothing." Though their feelings had received a hasty and _very_ enjoyable confirmation, Fuji found himself quailing at being the first to say the words out loud.

_I love you._

Sheets rustled at they were thoughtfully pulled up to cover Fuji and keep him warm.

"I love you too, Syuusuke. Say it when you're ready." A strong arm snaked out to embrace Fuji in comforting, understanding heat. And Fuji knew then that he could say it, after all.

"…I love you, Ryoma."

The arm around him pulled him closer, tightening in silent appreciation.

Fuji Syuusuke slept in peace, drifting into the delicious darkness of his dreams.

"_Maa, Echizen. Change can be overrated._

_But not always._

_*_

Omake:

"Mada mada da ne, Syuusuke. I heard that. I was definitely more sincere sounding when _I _said it."

"_What?_ I just said that I love you!"

"You _so_ hesitated."

"I did not!"

"I win."

"It's not a game!"

"You just wish you'd won."

"Won what?"

"The game."

"…"

Smirk.

Glare.

Smirk.

"…What was the prize?"

"I get to top. Permanently."

"Hey! Says who?!"

"Me."

"That's not fair!"

"I won."

"I should still get to top sometimes."

"Yadda."

"Ryoma, this really isn't fai—ooohh…"

And Fuji Syuusuke lost again. He would learn, as time passed, that Ryoma could be a _very_ persuasive opponent.

~The End~

A/N: Please Review! Was it too corny? Aahh…Review!!


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